


Now that we're alone

by Hawkbringer



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: First Hug, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, No Sex, Not Canon Compliant, Quote: Not in front of the Klingons, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:30:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkbringer/pseuds/Hawkbringer
Summary: Spock rebuffed Kirk's attempt to touch him earlier, in full view of the Klingons on the bridge. But now, well, there's no Klingons around, are there?





	Now that we're alone

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't even seen the movie, ergo, details are gotten wrong, or not referenced when they should be. I had to ask Google to find out which movie this scene was even from! McCoy isn't in this at all, and he by all right should be. A lot of missed opportunities to talk about God, when Kirk is soft-swearing. Oh, well! It's just an excuse for excessive fluff and schmoop. (written early 2012 or before.)

"Spock?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"I... don't see any Klingons around here... do you?" Kirk looked at him askance, glancing pointedly around the empty corridor.

Spock stood straighter. "No, I do not." 

In the uncomfortable silence, Kirk was forced to continue. "So... may I...?"

One eyebrow quirked up. "Please delineate the action you are requesting permission to complete." It sounded like a question. It also sounded like teasing.

Kirk couldn't explain in words, so he stepped up to Spock and curled his hands slowly, gently, possessively, inexorably around Spock's shoulders, looking up into his face (so novel, to look _up_ at his partner), and letting all his complicated emotions twist his face how they would. He didn't realize how close to tears that brought him. 

"Sssss.. _pock,_ " he enunciated, running his thumbs in caressing little circles on Spock's shoulders. His every touch burned _I love you_ like a brand across Spock's skin, but the Vulcan continued to play coy.

One eyebrow rose. "That is hardly the verbal explication I requested, Captain." 

Kirk smiled tensely, his eyebrows knitting together. "You're gonna make me do it, aren't you? I'm gonna have to..."

Spock's face melted into seriousness. "Yes. If you want... anything, of me, Captain, you shall have to take the first step yourself."

Kirk lifted his hands and clapped Spock's shoulders hard enough to bruise a human, but not a Vulcan. He shook him lightly. "I can't..." He lost his words, searching Spock's face. There, he found them again, his face relaxing into something faraway and sad. "I have to know that you _want_ this, Spock. I can't... I _won't,_ force you, even if it means pain to me."

"This, Captain?" Spock's voice was getting hoarse with the effort to control. "What is, this?"

Kirk's face broke out in a grin despite himself - the lyrics to a hundred dozen love songs flashed through his head, but Spock would not understand their significance.

"This is logical, Mr. Spock," Kirk replied instead. "After all, isn't it... counterproductive, untruthful, damaging, to our integrity as persons to be lying to ourselves _all the damn time_?"

Spock's face had relaxed further. It seemed he was simply waiting for Kirk to say something, one thing, that would awaken him fully, break down his last wall, and allow his hybrid nature to agree on one simple thing. "And what are we lying about, Captain?"

Kirk dropped his gaze, then. Spock marveled at the beauty of this unrepentant dominating man so cowed before him. Kirk's hands started up their caressing motion again. Kirk seemed to take some kind of solace from it. "We're lying about... what we are to each other, Spock. What we could be. We're denying our future, all our possibilities. We aren't... as constrained by the service as we were on that first mission-" and Spock knew exactly which mission he was speaking of- "we are....more free." 

Kirk looked up then, his eyes blazing but the rest of his face calm. "I've lost you how many times, Mister Spock? And you almost lost me today. Doesn't that..." _make you feel..._ he almost said, but checked himself. "...seem like such a horribly illogical situation? It just... doesn't jive with the universe, mister, that either of us should ever be alone." _Without the other _was the unspoken end to the sentence, but Spock gleaned it anyway.__

____

____

"Yes," he admitted hoarsely. "It does seem... illogical."

"So therefore," Kirk pounced, "the _logical _next step would be to... formalize this connection somehow. Make the universe recognize that it can't do this to us. It hasn't championed yet, and it never will!" Oh, he sounded so certain. It broke Spock's heart. But the pessimist never wins the day. "We can beat the universe's best attempts to kill us, but only when we're together, Mister Spock." And the word 'together' in this context was so innocuous, but Spock heard all its other connotations, ones that Kirk perhaps hadn't intended. "Will you let us be together, Mister Spock? In the very basic interest of individual survival via collective action?"__

____

____

Spock closed his eyes, infinitely grateful to the kinder gods of the universe for guiding Kirk's speech. So flawlessly logical. Not based on emotions. Based on the most basic assumption of all living beings - survival, until full potential has been reached. Spock could not argue with that. Neither, he realized, did he even want to. So he sprang his trap.

His eyes snapped open. "So what you are saying, Jim, is that you would die without me?" Jim's face did that strange melting-tightening thing again, the purest expression of inner conflict Spock had ever known him to evince. 

"Yes," he whispered in tortured admission, never taking his eyes from Spock's. "Wouldn't you?"

Spock nodded lightly, as if Kirk were discussing the color of the bulkheads around them. "Yes, I would die without you, Jim." Kirk's mouth squished into a straight line and he reached for Spock again. Taking the first step. Spock grabbed his hands before they could reach his shoulders. He opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say, exactly. 

"Would you like a Vulcan bonding or a human marriage ceremony, to formalize this joint commitment, sir?" was the sentence that came out.

It was exactly the right thing to say. Kirk's face brightened as his eyes lifted, his mouth stretching in that same awed-and-happy grin that Spock remembered, even now, from after the fal-tor-pan. "Anything. Everything." His eyes began to glisten with tears. "Anything you want! Oh, Spock..."

Spock allowed his lips to curve in the closest approximation of a smile he could manage. The required muscles were stiff and weak from decades of disuse. "Then I believe," Spock demurred, raising Kirk's hand to his mouth and running his parted lips over the back of Kirk's knuckles, "the only remaining matter of business is to determine sexual compatibility." He looked from Kirk's hand to his face, his head turned to one side. "Is that agreeable to you?"

Kirk felt his knees nearly give out. His hands tightened in Spock's grasp and the Vulcan guided one of them to rest against Spock's own waist. Kirk trembled harder, searched Spock's face. "Here?" he whispered. "What about the... Klingons?" 

Spock yielded to his captain's worry and disentangled their hands that weren't clasped to his side, gestured with his. "Lead the way, Captain." Amazed at how easy it was, Kirk allowed his hand to slide across Spock's waist, resting at the small of his back, stroking repeatedly, obsessively, unable to stop, trying to convince himself that this was real, wouldn't end as soon as he let Spock go. 

Sensing his fear, Spock leaned down and brushed his lips, just barely there, against Kirk's ear. "I have no wish for you to ever let me go." He was very pleased with the shiver that produced.

At the door to the Captain's cabin, which Spock had been occupying until Kirk returned, Spock keyed in the entry code and led the way inside.

"Computer, lights, 50%," he ordered, then turned to Jim. "What activity would you like to engage in first?" 

Kirk passed a hand over his eyes. "How about sitting down and taking off my boots so that I don't faint in the middle of... anything, okay?"

Spock nodded smartly and maneuvered Kirk towards the couch-without-arms and very kindly moved him back against it, letting Kirk's knees give out as they hit the seat. 

Surprised, Kirk glanced up at him, only to have to look _down_ a second later as Spock, taking Kirk's suggestion a bit too literally, knelt gracefully before Kirk's feet and began removing his boots.

Kirk tipped his head against the seat-back, closing his eyes at the satisfying _thump_. He breathed out shakily as Spock's hands - _Spock's_ hands! - fussed and finagled and tugged and finally stroked his sock-clad feet, sliding sensuously up his ankles, exploring his shins. Kirk let out a hitching breath as Spock's hands met skin. "Dear _god_ , what are you doing to me?"

Kirk could hear the quirked eyebrow in Spock's next remark. "My name," he said, "is Spock. Please, Captain. After all these years, I would assume that you would recognize the difference."

Kirk picked his head up then, gazing into the smug, infuriating, passionately-beloved countenance of his Vulcan First. He let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Dear _Spock,_ then, I guess, is more accurate?"

The Vulcan nodded once, demurely. "Yes, it is." 

Kirk chuckled twice again, feeling the heat beginning to infuse his body reach his eyes. His gaze was dark and smoldering. "Ha-ha! Come here, you," he rightly growled, reaching greedy hands out to clasp Spock's forearms as he rose and turned and sank down beside Kirk on the settee. His entire thigh pressed against the length of Kirk's, hot as a brand. 

Carelessly, Spock toed off both his boots and shoved both pairs to the side with one sweep of his stockinged foot. 

He offered his arm then, the one closest to Kirk, and Kirk took it, wrapping his fingers around Spock's palm, memorizing every texture of it, having to close his eyes at the pleasure as the length of their forearms crossed and recrossed, as Spock's fingernails ran over the inside of his wrist. Then Kirk returned the favor, watching with intense fascination as Spock's eyes went half-lidded, as his already-fast pulse pounded faster in the hollow at the base of his throat. 

Fascinated, Kirk reached over with his other hand and pressed curious fingers to Spock's saggy-skinned, sharp-tendoned neck. The Vulcan gasped and Kirk jerked his hand back. 

"...hurts?" he whispered, not able to form complete sentences. 

Spock rocked his head back and forth, eyes still closed and lips parted. "No," he rasped out. "Oh, no. Jim..." And it was the loving caress of that single-syllable name that set Jim's blood pounding harder. He keened something high and helpless, pressed his fingers back against Spock's throat, petting and soothing, caressing and stroking, as he'd subconsciously longed to do for years. Not this precise act, perhaps, but the same intent. To love Spock with his body as thoroughly as he loved him with his mind. 

Decision arrived at, Kirk curled his hand around the back of the Vulcan's neck and shifted closer, aiming to press his lips against that age-weathered skin. But Spock did something surprising. Gleaning Kirk's intent through their Vulcan-kissing hands, Spock turned his head as Kirk leaned forward and Kirk's lips pressed against his own. That kiss was dry, without finesse, slightly off-center, and shocked them both into shy, stumbling awkwardness. 

Kirk withdrew, a blush rising in his cheeks and Spock watched it rise, fascinated. He said so aloud and Kirk laughed, high and nervously. Spock regretted that he'd apparently moved too quickly and decided to make amends. He cleared his throat, affecting more nervousness than he felt to ease Kirk's blush; endearing though it was, it seemed to have embarrassed him. 

"Mhhmm...Perhaps we could, I believe the phrase is, try that again?" Kirk smiled with unspoken gratitude and shifted to face Spock, the Vulcan doing the same, their knees knocking together once or twice. 

Once they'd settled, Kirk murmured, "Okay, here," placing his hands at Spock's neck, then sliding them up to cup his jaw. Spock's hands slid of their own accord up and back to hold Kirk's shoulders, reaching to the nape of his neck as Jim leaned forward. He tilted his head slightly, and when Spock tried to copy, Kirk smiled and swiftly cocked his head the other way, leaning in before Spock could readjust, and pressed the sides of their noses together. 

At this close distance, Jim's face had gone blurry and Spock closed his eyes. He was startled, then, by the sensation something warm and soft pressing against his lips. 

_It must be Jim's,_ he reasoned, and tilted the lower half of his jaw forward to meet Kirk and press against him. Kirk shifted their points of contact, seemingly hunting for the best position, and Spock observed the tactile dance as best he could through only touch. 

When Kirk's upper lip settled in the crease of Spock's, the muted burbling buzz of his thoughts gave a brief shout of joy, and there came a very curious sensation, that of Kirk's lips opening slightly, enveloping Spock's fuller lower lip, squeezing slightly, the same way Kirk's hand would do to his shoulder, and then releasing. 

A thousand questions raced through Spock's head but before he could ask any of them, Kirk had repositioned them and did the same open-envelop-retreat on his upper lip. As Spock felt Jim's lower lip press between both of his, he copied Jim's actions and opened his lips slightly, preening internally with accomplishment as Jim's lower lip popped in against his teeth. He caressed the warm length of flesh with his own lips, even while in the middle of having his upper lip catered to. 

Kirk jerked back then, as Spock let his lower lip go - it had been a very brief kiss, after all - and looked at his Vulcan with an expression of unadulterated surprise. It changed then into a chagrined sort of _I should have known_ look and Kirk eased back into position, nose, lips, and chin pressed all against him. Kirk kissed Spock again, his lips softening and molding to Spock's as the Vulcan attempted to force his mouth open so that he could kiss Jim's teeth. 

Realizing what Spock was doing made Jim's thoughts rustle with delight, sounding very much like a summer's day wind rustle through the trees, or a fancy new skirt being twirled around in front of the relatives. Though how either Jim or Spock had come up with that metaphor was beyond either of them. 

Kirk eased back, his face still soft with quiet wonder, but new amusement danced in his eyes. "Were you trying to kiss my _teeth?_ " he asked, with gentle but honest amusement. Spock remained unruffled. 

"Yes," he replied, sounding ever-so-slightly petulant. "It seemed the next logical step." Kirk's brow furrowed. 

"You've never tried kissing with tongues before?" Both of Spock's brows flew to his hairline. 

"Tongues?" he repeated, not quite believing the word. 

Jim smiled rather deviously and cupped Spock's face in his hands again, watching his eyebrows drop but then furrow in confusion. "Oh, yes, Mister Spock. Let me show you?" The last was a question he clearly knew the answer to, so why ask it?, Spock wondered. He let the left brow express his sardonic amusement for the query.

"I believe the answer is, 'yes, please,' Captain." Jim's smile broadened.

"Well, since you said 'please'..." he drawled, then leaned forward and attacked Spock's mouth as gently as he could, sliding his tongue over Spock's lips, wetting them thoroughly. "Now you try," he offered in a hoarse and husky voice. 

Spock leaning towards him with his tongue sticking out was just about the funniest sight Kirk had seen since... He didn't get to complete that thought, because all his boyish amusement evaporated the second Spock's tongue made contact with his lips. Realizing that it had dried somewhat since he'd placed it outside his mouth, Spock licked at Jim's mouth briefly, then retracted his tongue, only to flick it out again to coat Jim's lips with coppery Vulcan saliva. 

He repeated this action enough times to make Jim's lips as shiny as they were going to get, and was about to pull back and ask for further directions when Jim's mouth opened under his and his tongue touched a human set of teeth. Smooth and flat, the front ones were, just like Vulcans', Spock noted, before Kirk opened his mouth further and touched his tongue to the underside of Spock's. The Vulcan inhaled a sharp breath but didn't move away. 

Surging forward to fit their mouths more securely together, Jim tilted his head and lapped at Spock's lips, demanding entrance, which Spock eagerly gave him. Then Jim's hot wet muscle slid inside Spock's mouth, tracing the insides of his cheeks, seeming to count the number of his teeth, and the uncontrollable, slick, pleasurable, invading presence caused small tremors in the muscles of Spock's arms and legs. Then the other's tongue slid out and Spock felt unaccountably cold as Jim leaned back, taking his warm face away. 

His eyes were dark as he looked at Spock, flushed in his own, inimitably Vulcan way, with kiss-swollen lips and a look in his eyes Jim hadn't thought he'd live to see again. Spock's tongue poked out, traced the perimeter of his lips and sucked Jim's saliva back into Spock's mouth, where the Vulcan promptly swallowed it. Kirk's knees turned to jelly again, but he managed to focus as Spock asked, all his usual decorum absent, "Wh.. why'd you stop?" It seemed he was even having trouble drawing breath. 

_Gods, do I affect him that much?_ Jim took a deep breath of his own before replying, "I want to...touch your tongue. With my tongue. You'd have to, open your mouth, Spock." Spock blinked at him with passion-dark eyes, not seeming to comprehend, and Kirk took a chance on illogic and surged forward again without warning, licking and nudging Spock's mouth with his tongue. "Open for me," he murmured against the pulsing flesh. "Open your mouth, baby." 

While he didn't understand the innocent (and inaccurate) endearment, Spock consigned the matter to irrelevance, and focused totally on obeying Kirk's commands. He opened his mouth, lowering his jaw as though he were about to speak, and Kirk's increasingly-insistent thoughts broke out again in a united shout of joy. All of a sudden, Kirk's tongue slid back into Spock's mouth, between his teeth and worked in wet pulses over its twin, an obscene and enthusiastic greeting.

Spock's hands tightened on Kirk's shoulders. He tilted his head opposite of Kirk's and allowed himself to bear down against his mate - his _mate_ , after all these years - pressing the shorter man against the seat-cushion on the arm-less couch, looming over him and thoroughly debauching his captain's mouth. In the entire maneuver, his tongue had never stopped touching Jim's.

The taste was absolutely intoxicating, he'd justify himself if any of them even think to ask later. The taste of Jim, the smell of the man Spock had shared so much of his life with, would share all of it with in a few short weeks (as soon as is possible, Spock had decided in his mind. As soon as is possible, we will bond), acted like chocolate liqueur on his controls, tearing through them like tissue paper, leaving only the raw desire behind, the raw caring. 

He would never hurt Jim, he realized despite the fire in his blood, because he loved him, loved him beyond any shadow of a doubt, any inkling of denial, and he would never be able to delude himself into thinking he was emotionless, because ever after, if he had ever dared try, the memory of Jim, in many different beds, times, places, and ages, spread out beneath him with ecstasy on his face, would undo him every time. 

He would never hurt this man, Spock realized, as he tugged and pawed at collars and cuffs that separated his hands from Jim's flesh, but he would kill anyone who dared to try.

Jim was laughing and squirming beneath Spock, and the moisture that stained both their faces was neither sweat nor blood, but tears. In the crystal-clarity that followed Spock's realization, these facts became relevant to him again, and he prayed Jim could forgive his lapse. He was afraid that he could not. Sudden shame welled up in the back of his throat and Spock lifted off of Jim, watching in muted horror as his Captain huffed and panted and writhed and shed tears of laughter. 

"Good Jesus, Spock, you _dog_ , you! If I'd known you'd react like that, I'd have tried this a long time ago!" He whooped with glee again.

The smile on Kirk's face pierced through Spock's confusion and he had to ask, almost meekly, "You... enjoyed my... actions?"

"Oh, Lord, yes, Spock!" Kirk gripped his shoulders, crushing Spock's chest to his own, then let him up and smiled again at ten thousand watts. "You have no idea, my friend, no idea _at all_ , how long I've begged and pleaded with deities I don't believe in to have you writhing on top of me - in a situation where we both weren't fearing for our lives," he added, since there had been many times that fulfilled the above requirements, but none had been particularly pleasant.

Spock tried to parse all those words with what limited amount of brain power the sensation, of Jim's tongue against his, had left him with. "You..." he paused to regain his breath. "You wish, then, for me to dominate you in a sexual fashion?"

Kirk hummed a moan behind his lips and writhed his body against Spock's, begging the gods that he didn't believe in for just a hint of the dull, hot warmth of Spock's hardness to touch him. "Yesss," Kirk hissed, lowering his arms to the small of Spock's back and using that leverage to grind up against him, proving his point with his ample, ready hard-on.

His head much clearer now, Spock dipped his head to press a sweet, chaste kiss (without tongues) to Jim's mouth, asking only that he accept the gift, and not try to participate. "I acknowledge the magnitude of the trust you place in me, James Kirk. I will do my best to ensure you do not regret this choice."

Kirk slowed his writhing and looked to the side. Fearing any interruption to their lovemaking process, he took the plunge and blurted out, "But... I might wanna.. top you, sometimes, too." 

He looked very embarrassed after he said that, and sighed hugely with relief as Spock smiled indulgently and conceded, "It seems we shall, 'switch off,' then?" 

Kirk smiled, still embarrassed by the outburst, but glad he had said something, and gave Spock an affectionate squeeze. The bashful murmur of his thoughts exploded briefly, spiraling in wonder around the idea that _he could hug Spock now,_ and Spock became aware that Kirk had wished to wrap his arms around his Vulcan friend for years. 

He tilted his head, knowing Kirk would be aware of the element of touch-telepathy that would account for this knowledge - "It pleases you to hug me?" He framed it like a question, but of course it was a statement of fact. Jim did not prevaricate. 

"Yeah. It does. I've always..." he looked down, began blushing again, "I've pretty much always wanted to do that."

Spock reached down - when had his hands moved to frame Kirk's face? - and stroked his captain's face, exuding a tenderness through the touch that a Vulcan would have felt keenly. Jim felt it in a slightly more muzzy fashion, but picked up on the general idea. 

He turned and rubbed his face against Spock's caressing, remarkably like a cat. Spock turned one corner of his mouth up in the secret not-smile that he had been giving Jim for years. 

"I see no Klingons around, t'hy'la. I believe it would be safe to indulge in your heart's desire at this time." 

He was rewarded with Jim's grateful _what on earth did I do to deserve your devotion_ face, and Jim asked shyly after clearing his throat, "Mhhmm... Could we stand up, then?" 

"Of course," Spock replied promptly, and swung his legs up, over, down, and off of Jim, rising to his full height at parade rest with his hands uncharacteristically lax at his sides. Jim sat up more slowly, fully absorbing the sight of his Vulcan - _his_ Vulcan! - standing obediently before him, fully understanding and willing to indulge Jim's desire to give him a hug. 

Standing with deliberate slowness, Kirk never took his eyes off Spock as he moved forward on stockinged feet to stand before this incredible being who had decided that Kirk, of all people, was worth devoting his life to. Close enough to touch, now, but not to kiss, Kirk found himself choking back tears, just as he did when he first caught sight of that beloved form folded gracefully into the center chair, waiting for Jim, and only Jim, as he always would. 

Jim stepped closer, looking down to make sure their toes lined up, the big ones just barely touching, then looking up to see the quiet amusement coloring Spock's face. He raised his hands then, placed them on Spock's shoulders, lowered his head and turned it to press his cheek against Spock's chest, fully aware that he wouldn't hear the Vulcan's heartbeat unless he sank to his knees. _Now there's a thought,_ but he filed that one away for later. 

He raised his head as he slid his arms around Spock's, clasping his friend to him, so afraid to let him go. Spock relented slightly and placed his hands around Kirk's waist, content to simply stand there, soaking up the quiet, until Jim would invariably break it. But Jim's tolerance for quiet moments far outstripped his patience with paradise, Spock learned, as he stood in Spock's arms, radiating contentment, for 6 full minutes and 47 seconds. When that time marker had passed, Kirk picked up his head from where it rested on Spock's chest, looked his Vulcan friend in the eye, and said, in all seriousness. "Spock? Let's go to bed."

And they did. But they did not sleep for several hours.

**Author's Note:**

> Come ask me things on Tumblr, I am Hawkbringerandstubby.


End file.
